The Curse
by Charlemagne
Summary: The terrible night angelus regains his soul


Disclaimer- I own not Angelus, Angel (who makes a guest appearence), Darla, or anyone else I mention owned by Joss. Jannah Kalderash isn't Ms. Calender but a creation of my own.   
The Curse  
by Charlemagne   
1898 A.D.   
The huge bonfire roared about the Romanian woods while the fiddle music filled the caravan. The Rom of the clan Kalderash were hosting a festival of the finest sort with drink, dance, and food aplenty. Truly it was a night to be remembered-indeed it would be for ALL concerned.   
Tonight was the wedding of Jannah Kalderash, the beloved and only child of the gypsy clan's patriarch Gregor to Roman Gallantis, the son of a neighboring clan's head. It was a night of celebration-one of such jubilance that even a pair of Giorgios (whose free spending habits had had allot to do with their acceptance) were allowed to partake in the festivities.   
Of course, Angelus Mcfierce didn't really care much for the wine aspect of the festivities, he was well past his hundredth birthday and it had been long before then that he had given up "strong drink". At least the kind humans considered strong. Still to keep up appearances he drank from the wine bottle the Gypsies were passing on and handed it over to his "sister" Darla "Mcfierce". Angelus had never learned her mortal last name, so she had to travel under his, and posing siblings instead of lovers was so much easier on the locals. [ As if I cared but hey when in Rome....mania...do as the Rome....manians do. ].   
Angelus shifted uncomfortably over the chest he and Darla had been sent to retrieve from a cave a few miles North. Nest [ I refuse to call any vampire....even the strongest "Master".] wanted for some odd reason to visit the New World and a bunch of bandits had hidden a fortune in gems there a few years back. Angelus didn't really see the point, he loved traveling but doubted Nest would ever understand the "beauty of different cultures". Describing the differences in human "vintages" to him was rather like describing the Mona Lisa to a rock-He'll listen but not understand.   
Angelus felt the hunger gnaw at him and eyed the Gypsy cattle [ Too fat....too greasy.....too young.....too echhhh..... ]. Darla dressed in a beautiful traveling dress turned to him "Hungry love?". Angelus nodded and said "You know me best. None of the fare yet has been to my......liking.". A burly gypsy man not understanding which conversations were private then slapped Angelus's shoulder and said that he no doubt would find something pleasant to eat soon. Angelus was tempted to take him just to purify the human race but decided against it [ I have my standards. ].   
It was as Angelus searched the tribe for the perfect vessel that the music became more lively and Angelus saw a breathtaking sight. A perfect gypsy girl clothed in Romani garb beginning a impassioned dance. Long dark hair, breathtaking eyes, and a wonderful figure-she was a bit young but hey he was a bit old. [ She is incredible. ] Angelus followed her dance with his eyes and noticed every nuance with senses that were anything but human. Angelus noticed that her dance was coated with extreme despair and immense sorrow. It reminded Angelus of his favorite moments; the time he had slain, tortured, and fed on over one hundred men, women, and children with his pack during a Budapest earthquake, his making love to Darla over the corpses of a Watcher's family, and a few other incidents of incredible depravity. It was intoxicating.   
"You want her don't you?" Darla said with a smile, Angelus nodded dreamily, continuing to watch the dance. Darla understood him he acknowledged again, she had seen him through the hundreds of "short lived" affairs of his life without a twinge of jealously....save for Drucilla....the act of her creation had made him legendary among his kind and he had probably spent alittle too much time spoiling his pet but Angelus vowed he would make it up to Darla. [ Once we take Nesty down to the New World Darla.....I'm am going to show you atrocity that will quake the world. ]. The dance ended a few moments latter with Darla whispered into his ear "Once again my love you manage to pick the one who is the most trouble. She's the bride to be."   
Angelus smiled as he sighed at the girl's beauty. "I always did have the excellent....taste."   
  
* * *  
Angelus tossed a small bag of gold pieces to the foot of the gypsy man, the man quickly grabbed it up, muttering to himself something about "rich girgios". [ Don't worry about the money my friend .....you have repaid me with much already. ]. Walking into the tent he had just paid for, Angelus took off his shoes, coat and vest, and began to unbuttoned his shirt as he leaned back on the tent's cot. The gypsy girl's dance kept spinning in his head....he could think of nothing else when he heard something, someone was coming directly into the tent-he could feel it.   
Looking upwards and getting up, he saw the Gypsy girl enter, now dressed in her wedding gown. The ceremony couldn't be more than a few hours away. The girl spoke in a deep accent, her deep brown eyes looking upwards. "Mr.....Angel? The woman....yur sister.....told me you wished to....umm speaketh with me.", Angelus grinned somewhat while he looked over her shoulder to see Darla holding the tent flap and grinning at him. [ Thank you love. Your gift is most appreciated. ].   
Putting on a look of concern and sympathy, Angelus spoke to the girl, Darla closing the tent flap. "Yes.....I saw your dance tonight......I felt your sorrow....." his words were true enough. The girl turned her head, as he had expected he had hit close to the mark. The girl said "Yes......tis was not a dance of joy....." she let the words hang in the air as if her getting married were the end of this dimension. [ Humans are funny like that. ]. Angelus looked with deep (and utterly false) pity "You don't want to marry him."   
The girl nodded "Yes, my father giorgio.....has married me off to the son of his closest friend....without my consent....I dare not defy him but Roman Gallantis is an unthinking brute, a mean savage with terrible fury." [ I like him already. ]. Angelus put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Please let me help....." he stared deeply into her eyes as she stared back, with not a wee bit of physical attraction. [ It's only natural, I wasn't at all unpleasant to look at when I last looked into a mirror....some century or so back. ].   
Angelus also let his voice trail off, pretending not to know her name. "Jannah....Jannah of the clan Kalderash." she said, Angelus whispering "Like you..... it is beautiful."   
Jannah and Angelus then leaned toward one another and kissed deeply, knowing the way Rom fathers gaurded their daughters Angelus guessed it was her first-she wasn't bad for a beginner. The hunger gnawed at Angelus and he let his face shift to his true demonic visage, the girl's eyes were closed and she kept them shut while Angelus bit deeply into her neck. Jannah smiled for a brief bit, Angelus drinking hungrilly. A few seconds latter, she fell backwards into his arms as he laid her on his cot, running his claw across her neck and whispering softly to her still form's ear "There.....you don't have to marry him now."   
Satiated with the rich pure blood, Angelus put on his clothes and walked out. It would be hours before they found her and frankly he and Darla had places to go and people to kill. [ Too bad, I would kill to be at that wedding feast.....trouble is that's what got me kicked out of it. ]. Whistling, he walked out into the woods.   
  
* * *  
Gregor Kalderash, father of Jannah, and chief of the Kalderash of this generation held his hand on his wife's shoulder while she wailed uncontrollably over their daughter's corpse. The grief was rampant about the clan and the screams of anguish filled the woods that had previously been filled with joy. [ Jannah.....my poor Jannah, you have been taken from me and all the world is darker for your absence. ] Gregor thought, he was a religious man and knew she was in a better place....but in his heart his anger and grief were burning like fiery coals. He did not want justice to be done, he knew such a concept was lost on a NOSFERATU. He nearly spat, he knew the legends. [ The worse that can be done to their kind is to send them back to hell....and what punishment is THAT?!?! ]. Gregor's eyes blazed with hate while he heard the tapping of a wooden cane on the ground behind him amidst the endless sobs.   
Turning around he whispered the name "Katama." while his tribe parted the way for the old woman. She was small and shriveled with extreme old age. Katama was one hundred and nine winters and indeed was Gregor's great grand mother. The old woman watched with reverence the placing of the clan's daughter on the altar that would soon be her funeral pyre, rose petals were thrown about by the tribesmen half to ward off evil, half to mourn. "It is time.....for vengeance grandson of my daughter." the old woman proclaimed, Katama had powerful magic [ how else could she have lived so long? ] and Gregor knew that she had a terrible punishment in store for the vampire, but he still wondered WHAT could burn long and hard enough in the CREATURE'S belly to possibly be equal to this horror.   
"I shall show you Gregor what is equal." she said as if reading his mind, and drew from beneath her long heavy dress a small crystal orb which Gregor recognized from fire lit tales. His face hardened not with joy or heartening but cold satisfaction. [ Vengeance will be done. ].   
  
* * *  
Angelus fell back against the tree in agony, his insides felt like they were exploding. Beads of sweat poured down across his face and body from pores not used in decades. Running through the forest, he cried out in pain, he could feel something was happening to him.....something mystical. [ The gypsies......some of their kind still has the power......Oh dear Old Ones NO! ]. Turning his aimless rushing into a determined sprint, Angelus ran with all of his might toward the gypsy encampment.....he wasn't that far, it had not been too many hours.....[ Darla will understand...AGHHH! ].   
It was then that *something* passed through him, and submerged him completely. Angelus recognized it, it had passed through him the moment his soul had replaced that of the true Angelus Mcfierce-when he was brought over in Galaway, 1753. [ No that's impossible! IT CANNOT BE YOU! YOUR DEAD! ]. Angelus tripped and fell before a huge bonfire. It seemed now like he was now trapped in someone else's body, he could see, touch, smell, and taste everything but he couldn't do *anything*. It was then that the old gypsy, father of Jannah wandered up to him and spoke "It hurts, yes? Good. It will hurt more."   
Angelus spoke, except it wasn't his voice or his mind SAYING IT. "Where am I?" his voice panted. [ You are in a gypsy camp surrounded by hunter-sorcerers! DESTROY THEM! Cut out their hearts! ] Angelus's mind screamed but not a word was heard by Angel. The old gypsy who had lost his daughter on what was to be her finest day spoke again, smiling bitterly "You don't remember... everything you've done for a hundred years. In a moment, you will. The face of everyone you killed... our daughter's face... they will haunt you, and you will know what true suffering is.".   
Angel spoke out words again that were not Angelus's "Killed? I, I don't...". It was then that Angelus felt his memories LOST to the fool. He felt them all become the memories of a human, all his triumphs and ecstasies now part of that man who moved his body around like a puppet. Angelus screamed in his mind, but he knew it did no good, the most horrible curse imaginable had been cast on the evil vampire and he richly deserved it.   
The End of one tale....the Beginning of another   
-Charlemagne   
tcp@zoomnet.net mailto:tcp@zoomnet.net  



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